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“You threaten that every quarter. HR probably has a template ready.”
“One day I’ll surprise you.”
“I don’t buy it.” He waves a hand between us. “That sounded like a man desperately trying to change the subject before anyone asks the obvious follow up.”
A cough erupts near the far end of the table, followed by the furious clatter of keys from whoever suddenly decides spreadsheets require absolute concentration.
Theo gestures toward the noise. “See? Even accounting’s invested now.”
The grin never leaves his face, and every attempt I make to steer the discussion back toward budgets or timelines lasts about thirty seconds before Theo finds another excuse to drag Emma into it, leaving me to drag the meeting back into line once everyone else suddenly discovers a consuming fascination with their work.
I sign the final report of the day and reach for the next file as the office gradually empties beyond the glass walls, goodnights fading beneath closing elevator doors and computer screens disappearing into black.
A contract gives way to a budget review, which turns into three emails that should’ve taken ten minutes instead of forty, and by the time I finally look up, the floor has emptied apart from one desk.
Emma hasn’t moved.
She sits exactly where she was after the meeting, her jacket draped over the back of her chair as she works through another file, a forgotten coffee cooling beside her keyboard.
I pull my attention back to the contract in front of me and keep reading, yet every time I glance up she’s still there, bent over another document as more lights disappear across the floor and the office settles around her.
Eventually she closes her laptop, slides it into her bag, shrugs into her coat, and heads for the elevators.
I watch her cross the floor. The doors close behind her.
My attention should return to the paperwork waiting on my desk, yet my hand reaches for the mouse instead, bringing the security monitor beside my computer to life before I switch to the parking garage cameras.
Emma steps out of the elevator carrying her bag and walks toward her car, moving through one camera after another until she unlocks the driver’s door, climbs inside, and starts the engine.
Her headlights sweep across the concrete and the barrier arm lifts.
A few seconds later her car disappears beyond the exit, leaving the final camera fixed on an empty garage. I keep staring until I notice the ache in my hand from gripping the mouse too tightly.
I release it and lean back in my chair.
What exactly am I expecting to happen? Do I think she’s going to walk back through that door?
I curse under my breath and let my head fall back against the chair, but the fantasy of her refuses to leave me.
In my imagination, Emma crosses the floor toward my office, and with every step the distance we’ve kept between us disappears until her hands find the edge of my desk and she looks at me like she’s already made up her mind.
I want her badly enough that I’ve stopped pretending I can file it away under manageable.
My hand stays wrapped around the mouse until my knuckles ache, while the hard pull of my cock demands far more attention than the paperwork scattered across my desk.
I glance at the clock and weigh the twisted appeal of staying late at the office to satisfy myself before my eyes travel to the glass walls surrounding me.
Nothing waits beyond them except darkness stretching across the empty floor like the blank side of a confession booth. Everyone’s gone, and even the cleaning crew hasn’t started their nightly rounds yet.
Even so, I wait until the screensaver slides across every monitor before I reach for my belt.
I shift beneath the desk, trying to decide whether the raw, animal heat burning through my chest should embarrass me or push me farther, and the answer turns out to be both.
What I want is her.
I want to watch her hair spill free from the tight knot at the back of her head as she sinks to her knees between my chair and the desk, her mouth already parted while her hands flatten against my thighs to brace herself.
I want the wet, sweet heat of her mouth, the rasping velvet of her tongue, and the jolt that hits me when her lips close around my cock and she looks up without breaking eye contact.